


Live in My House, I'll Be Your Shelter

by ShowMeAHero



Series: this is my house, and i live in it [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Flashbacks, Fluff, Gen, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 21:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17968709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: “Who’s this?”“Bruce’s son,” Jason tells him. Dick’s head snaps up to look at Bruce.“You’re kidding me,” Dick says, almost laughing. Then, he really sees the look on Bruce’s face. “You’renotkidding me.”





	Live in My House, I'll Be Your Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from ["I'll Cover You"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CUY_st9c-QA) from RENT.

**_six years, six months ago_ **

 

Dick has only just turned nineteen years old when Damian first shows up. Dick’s been in state college for a few months, has finally landed on studying criminal justice and police science, and he gets home to Wayne Manor to hear an ungodly high-pitched  _ screaming  _ from somewhere inside. He drops his bag and motorcycle helmet at the door, frowning.

“Hello?” he calls. There’s the sound of running, and then eleven-year-old Tim slides to a stop in front of Dick.

“Someone left a baby here!” Tim exclaims, out of breath. Dick shrugs out of his jacket, abandons it with his bag, and follows Tim at a run through the house. Tim slams to a stop in the room they had long ago commandeered as a family room, and Dick nearly bowls him over before he stops himself with a hand on the door frame. Fifteen-year-old Jason’s leaning against the wall right next to Dick, and he doesn’t even look away from the scene in front of them: Alfred is sitting on the sofa holding a tiny, screaming baby, Bruce is hovering behind him while trying to seem like he’s not, and twelve-year-old Stephanie is reading a letter with white-knuckled hands.

“What the hell happened?” Dick shouts, over the shrieking. Everyone looks up at him, and he crosses the room through the silent gargoyles that his family have apparently transformed into to look at the baby in Alfred’s arms. “Who’s this?”

“Bruce’s son,” Jason tells him. Dick’s head snaps up to look at Bruce.

“You’re kidding me,” Dick says, almost laughing. Then, he really sees the look on Bruce’s face. “You’re  _ not  _ kidding me.”

“Look,” Stephanie says, passing the letter up. Dick takes it and reads through it, and, sure as shit, Jason’s telling the truth, or at least, as much of the truth as they know  _ from  _ this letter from Talia. Dick looks up at Bruce when he finishes it.

“Bruce,” Dick says. Bruce waves him off, turns away. “What’re you going to do?”

Bruce doesn’t answer, not right away. When he finally speaks, he says, “I’m not sure what Talia wants from me.”

“She wants you to take custody of him, Bruce, she said so,” Dick replies. He turns back to Jason, who just shrugs.

“But  _ why?”  _ Bruce asks. Dick looks back at him. “Does she want to disrupt my work? What does she  _ want?” _

Dick’s brow furrows. “Doesn’t really matter, does it? Even if she  _ does  _ want to disrupt your work, there’s still a baby here, Bruce. Someone has to take care of him.”

Bruce is silent again. Dick looks away from him, feeling the anger bubbling up in his chest. He focuses instead on Alfred, and then the baby. The letter said his name was Damian, that he’s two months old, and Dick can’t help but smile when he looks down at him. He holds his hands out, and Alfred doesn’t even hesitate before putting Damian into them. Dick lifts Damian up carefully, supports his head and his neck as he brings Damian up to his eye level so he can look at him. He’s still screaming, but it’s quieter, softer. He tucks Damian up against his chest, bounces back and forth a little bit, just instinctive movement. Damian starts calming almost instantly.

“Thank fuck,” Jason comments, still leaning against the wall. “That kid’s got fucking lungs.”

“Jason,” Bruce bites off. “Watch it.”

“If  _ anyone’s  _ misbehaved today, it’s you,” Jason shoots back. Dick doesn’t look up in the ensuing silence, still studying Damian. His eyes are bright, his skin is dark, his hair is black. He has a small nose, a small mouth; he looks almost like Bruce, but softer. Dick pushes a lock of hair out of his face and presses the pad of his thumb lightly to his nose. Damian makes a small sound, and Dick grins.

“Bruce,” Dick says, “he’s gotta stay.”

“Dick,” Bruce starts to reply, but Dick looks up at him.

“Look at him, Bruce,” Dick interrupts. “He looks so much like you, don’t you think?” Dick looks back down at Damian, lifts him up again to get a better look at him. It almost looks like Damian’s smiling. Dick’s thinking so quickly, his mind going a mile a minute. He remembers his own childhood with Bruce, the life his siblings are living, and wonders what that will look like for someone starting in infancy. He remembers his own parents, his own youth before Bruce adopted him. The time in the circus was a happy, shining springtime of his life; his time in the system was a dark, gaping hole of pain; his time with Bruce was fine, just fine, but a loving father Bruce Wayne was not.

“Dick,” Bruce repeats. Dick shakes his head.

“I’ll help,” Dick says. “I’m not gonna move out, I’m gonna stay.”

“You have your studies, Master Grayson,” Alfred reminds him. Dick nods.

“I can do both,” Dick answers. He looks up at Alfred. “Plenty of people do both, don’t they?”

“He’s my son, Dick,” Bruce says. Dick glances at him, and the two of them stare each other down. Tim once commented on how uncomfortable their staredowns can get for everyone else, but Dick’s grown pretty adept at winning them. Seven years being raised by Bruce Wayne as his guinea pig child does that to a person.

“We’re all your kids, Bruce,” Dick replies. “Let us help.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jason says.

“I’ll do what I can,” Stephanie pipes up. “He’s kind of cute.”

“He’s  _ loud,”  _ Tim comments.

“Then we’re doing it,” Dick states, matter-of-fact, hoping Bruce won’t disagree with him if he takes on a tone with enough confidence. Just to really drive the point home, he keeps talking before Bruce can interject. “He’s probably hungry, right? We got anything in the kitchen, Alfred?”

“I’ll be in in a moment,” Alfred answers, and Dick takes it for the dismissal it is, ushering the other kids out of the family room ahead of him. He stops outside the door, shimmies up against the bookshelf there. Damian’s blessedly quiet, so Dick waits until he hears Alfred and Bruce start talking.

“What are your thoughts, Master Wayne?” Alfred asks. There’s a barely-there sigh.

“Dick kind of took over on that one, didn’t he?” Bruce says.

“Wonder where he gets that from,” Alfred replies, and Dick doesn’t even have time to feel offended before he continues, “He is  _ your  _ son.”

“Which one?”

“Both of them,” Alfred says. “You know how Master Grayson can be. He can be quite determined.”

“He’s only nineteen.”

“And you were only thirty-one when you adopted a twelve-year-old, and that certainly didn’t stop you.” There’s a beat of silence. “The child is yours, Master Wayne. Talia made it clear to us both that she would not be coming back. He is legally your child, and he is legally in your custody.”

There’s more silence. Then, “I’m not sure I can do this, Alfred.”

“Luckily, you were never doing it alone,” Alfred replies. Dick decides to leave, then, to duck around the corner with Damian and take a second just to look down at him and take him in. He’s so small, even for a two-month-old, and Dick really doesn’t know all  _ that  _ much about babies, not really. He knows a lot about children in general, since there’s always so goddamn many in the house, but this is a  _ baby. _

He’s also, as Alfred pointed out, Dick’s brother. They’re both Bruce’s sons, in their own ways, and that’s gonna make life so fucking hard for Damian. Dick knows, he  _ knows,  _ that he has to do anything and everything he can to balance this kid out. Damian grabs at Dick’s hand, holds onto two fingers, and Dick just smiles to himself. He’d do  _ anything  _ for this kid already,  _ anything. _

 

* * *

**_present day_ **

 

Damian’s half-asleep, flat on his back in his new bed. Dick helped him pick out furniture for his new room in Dick’s place, and the bed’s the most comfortable thing Dick has ever sat on in his  _ life.  _ He’s propped up against the headboard, Damian half-in his lap, head on his chest. Dick has been telling a story for the better part of half an hour, winding the same lock of Damian’s black hair between his fingers the entire time. Damian’s let him do it, which means he’s genuinely too tired to stop him.

“The goblin can’t have the sonic sword, you said the scorpion-man had it,” Damian interjects. Dick sighs, dropping his head back against the wall.

“Only you find plot holes in your bedtime stories, you demon,” Dick says. Damian huffs, tips his head back to look up at Dick.

“Then you should tell better bedtime stories,” Damian tells him. Dick reaches up and pinches Damian’s cheek, just to get a rise out of him, and it works; Damian swats him away with the hand in the cast, nearly clocking Dick in the side of the head. Dick pulls his head back down, pushes his arm away.

“Settle down, child, and listen to my tale of woe,” Dick says, and Damian pinches his leg. “Oh, you  _ bastard.” _

“The scorpion-man had the sonic sword,” Damian repeats. He settles back in, head on Damian’s chest. Dick resumes his twisting of Damian’s hair, and Damian lets him. His own attention gets half-pulled away when he picks up Dick’s other hand in his own and starts fiddling with his fingers. Dick just keeps talking, making up an absurd story as he goes, trying to make it twisting and confusing enough that Damian will eventually just give up and fall asleep. Damian gets a tight grip on two of Dick’s fingers and yawns.

“Go to sleep, Dami,” Dick says, softly. Damian’s jaw cracks against Dick’s chest. “I’ll be here in the morning.”

“I know,” Damian snaps. Dick keeps stroking his hair. Damian’s eyes shut, and Dick goes back to the story he was telling. Eventually, Damian’s breathing evens out, deepens, and his body relaxes enough that Dick knows he’s finally asleep for the night. He keeps talking anyways, because every time he stops, Damian stirs a little bit, frowning in his sleep. He keeps just murmuring to him until Damian’s fully slack and completely asleep. He has to carefully wiggle his hand free from Damian’s iron grip, but, once he’s gotten out of it, he slides out from under him and tucks him all the way under his covers. He looks at him, just for a moment, in the soft light, before he switches the lamp off and leaves his room.

**Author's Note:**

> I also actually wrote some books! It was a long road but, I did it! Ta-da! If you want to read either of them, shoot me a message!
> 
> I have a blog now to request imagines - I just like to make people happy. Submit requests [here!](https://imagine-in-the-fandoms.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicolelianesolo](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


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